Pine Trees
by MusketeerAdventure
Summary: It's been a difficult week for Shaun. Human nature; lies and bias are confusing roads to navigate.


Pine Trees

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: It's been a difficult week for Shaun. Human nature; lies and bias are confusing roads to navigate.

* * *

The cafeteria was crowded this morning. The line for breakfast stretched almost to the door; but he was very patient and waiting never really bothered him.

Good things come to those who wait.

Shaun could smell the mixture of breakfast foods from way in the back, then felt and simultaneously heard his stomach rumble with hunger. Today was Monday. Monday meant chocolate chip pancakes with loads of dripping syrup; washed down with cold milk.

Moving up in the line, his eyes lit up with anticipation. Monday meant rounds with Dr. Melendez; hearing Claire speculate on all manner of things; and seeing Jared again. It would be good to see Jared. If everyone was mad at Jared for suing the hospital, then they might forget about his impromptu road trip.

He wouldn't forget his trip. He had kissed Lea; he had driven a car; and he had kissed Lea.

Frowning, he pictured her in Pennsylvania; her apartment… number 34 empty; and Starsky's bright cherry red with a white stripe, two door Ford Gran Torino riding the pavement at high speed; kicking up dirt and spinning rubber on highway eighty-one. Shrugging his shoulders, he dismissed the image quickly from his mind. He didn't want to be sad.

It was Monday. Monday meant breakfast with Dr. Glassman.

Finally, he made it to the buffet to make his choice. Behind the assortment of meals, Lucy held up a plate stacked with his favorite pancakes for him to inspect. "Monday, right?", she surmised and added a carton of milk to his tray along with an eight ounce glass. Freckles danced across her nose with amusement as he reached for his breakfast and moved along to the register. "Yes, its Monday", he replied and nodded in her direction.

Mark waited for him behind the cash register with his palm out. "Chocolate chip pancakes and milk", he announced. "Eight dollars and seventy-five scents", he added for good measure, and proceeded to count out what monies were due…the bills straight, crisp, presidents facing up and coins stacked neatly. It was important to be precise; and ignored the sighs of exasperation he could clearly hear behind him.

Their impatience didn't matter. Today was Monday.

Moving toward their appointed breakfast table, Shaun's stomach fluttered. The table was empty. Dr. Glassman's seat was empty. Where was Dr. Glassman? Today was Monday.

Shaun gripped the sides of his tray tightly; and searched the wide open space. A sea of faces greeted him like a tidal wave, the sheer volume of conversation ratchet up and pierced his ear drums. His palms began to sweat.

Today was Monday. He had his pancakes. They were warm and ready to eat. The floor was beginning to tilt sideways. Where was Dr. Glassman?

Taking a deep breath, then closing his eyes; he willed himself to smell the pine trees; to feel a cool breeze on his brow and his hair ruffled with affection.

And when he opened his eyes, the floor beneath his feet was steady; and everything was in its place. He decided to take a seat and wait. Maybe Dr. Glassman was running late. Maybe he was held up in a meeting. Maybe, he would walk in any second.

He could wait. Waiting was a good decision.

Some things were worth waiting for.

Watching the empty chair across from him, he considered the fact that he was by himself in a room full of people; alone…lonely and wished Dr. Glassman was here.

After some time, the alarm on his watch sounded. Rounds would start in ten minutes. He shouldn't be late. It wouldn't be good to be late. Not after going on a road trip for two days. So he stood, lifted his tray of uneaten pancakes and dumped them in the trash.

* * *

Scenery rushed by like swirling, squiggly lines beyond the glass. The bus started and stopped. The bell rang. People got on and off; but he took to real notice. Instead, he made it a point to hold the brown paper bag on his lap as still as possible.

His top lip trembled.

He tried to remember Dr. Glassman's actions. He didn't understand. Why didn't Dr. Glassman want to be his friend? Why would he want to be his father? He hated his father. His father was abusive. His father made his mother cry. His father killed his rabbit.

His father smelled of cigarettes and sour sausage. No good memories were attached to him at all.

Dr. Glassman was not his father. Dr. Glassman smelled of well worn, leather bound books with a hint of vanilla. Smells that brought 'To Kill A Mockingbird' to life; gave Jem breath and reminded him of his brother. Scents that reminded him of all the good Dr. Glassman had done for him.

Had he done something wrong?

He had told the truth. He did need space. He needed to make his own decisions. Shouldn't he tell the truth? He thought Dr. Glassman appreciated that he was honest. The truth worked out with Dr. Melendez – even though he had been the one who was wrong. Dr. Melendez wasn't mad at him.

He didn't put him in the dog house next to Jared.

What was he missing?

Claire said that it was important to read people. That knowledge of human behavior could help make informed, intuitive decisions. But he couldn't read people or their faces. Broad smiles, little smiles, frowns, grimaces, raised eyebrows, smirks….were only pictures; snapshots that made no real sense to him. Sometimes, even words were lost on him.

Everyone twisted the truth, used words with irony and cynicism that slipped by him unawares making it hard to catch up in the conversation.

It was what people did that made sense to him….their actions. Medicine, the inner workings of the human body, surgery….that's what made sense. He could read easily the signs of disease; symptoms of illness….the miracle of life. But to understand the nuance of human behavior was to say the least challenging; and an intricate lesson he had not yet learned.

But what he did know was that Dr. Glassman was still kind to him. Let him come into his office. Let him speak freely about what was on his mind; …..but things were different now between them. Where once he felt solidarity; now there was a distance. A distance that hurt him.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the vial of perfume Maja had given him. She had apologized for lying about her condition, saying that she only wanted to protect her brother from her mistake. "Rule number three", he had told her and nodded with what he hoped was sincerity and compassion.

Rule number three. Lying to protect someone you love. He could understand that.

Releasing the stopper from her gift, he wafted in the subtly sweet aroma. It was beautiful. It smelled like candor. He liked it and would keep it alongside his treasures.

He placed it back in his pocket, resolved to get at the truth.

* * *

Seated in his apartment; in his thinking chair, Shaun places the vial of perfume next to his baseball, and his most prized possession….a picture of he and Steve; then reached once again for his scent of pine air freshener.

He had purchased it from the gift shop on the bottom floor of the hospital. It had cost two dollars. He should have bought two.

Leaning back on the cushions, Lea came to mind; and her voice rang out clear over the wind, "What do you smell right now?", she asked, and turned to him with a smile. He presumed she was happy. She seemed happy. She was laughing. Laughing meant happy.

"I smell friendship", he answered aloud; and suddenly it came to him. Dr. Glassman had not said he didn't want to be his friend. His voice had been shaky. He repeated all the things Shaun had said he needed….space; the ability to make his own decisions. But it was his actions that were confusing him as well; the letting him walk away… a puzzle that confounded him. It was not like Dr. Glassman.

Shaun sat up straight. Was Dr. Glassman lying to him? He could think of several reasons why people would lie. To avoid something or someone; conflict of interest; retribution; criminal activity….to protect someone.

Was Dr. Glassman keeping some sort of secret? Had he committed a crime and wanted to protect him by keeping him at arm's length; or had he in some way hurt the man who had done so much for him….and now he couldn't forgive him.

Well whatever it was, he would figure out what was going on; and be his friend anyway.

Placing the scented pine next to the perfume; he stood up to prepare for dinner. Tonight was Friday. Friday meant no cooking. He would call Dominoes and order pizza with extra pepperoni.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Your thoughts are much appreciated.


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